Winter Jacket: New Beginnings (15 page)

“What’s the special occasion?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to do something nice for Hunter. I have the week off for Spring Break and I feel bad that she still has to work at the hospital every day.”

Troian stuck out her tongue. “You should have ditched your girlfriend and come to California to hang out with me.”

“You talk a big game,” I snorted. “Like you’d ever go on vacation without Nik.”

“I know,” Troian sighed. “But I wouldn’t have any fun without her.”

“That’s exactly what I told Hunter when she suggested I go on Spring Break without her.”

Troian pressed her lips together. “
You really like her, don’t you?”

“Um, yeah?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Troian started carefully. “I just…you don’t have the best track record, you know? And even though you’re not this wildly mature, esoteric person, I wondered how Hunter would keep up with you intellectually, or at least keep your interest.”

I knew I shouldn’t feel offended. Troian hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true, and if my best friend couldn’t tell me these things, who could?
I was notoriously fickle and had a short attention span when it came to relationships. It had begun long ago in high school – I’d figured my disregard for monogamy had been the lack of being attracted to my boyfriends, but then that behavior had continued in college with girls. Cady had been my longest relationship, and we’d just barely made it over a year. Compared to Troian and Nikole’s decade of being together, I was an amateur at long-term relationships.

But I couldn’t help feeling a little annoyed. Sure, Hunter and I hadn’t been together for very long if you compared us to Troian and Nikole, but I’d put my career on the line to be with her – that had to count
for something, right?

My annoyance must have been transparent.

“Bookie, I just want you to be happy.”

“Hunter makes me happy,” I snapped, cutting her off.

Troian held up her hands. “I know she does – you didn’t let me finish.”

“Sorry.”

“I just want you happy,” she tried again. “And when you’re not over-thinking or sabotaging your relationship, you’ve been the happiest I’ve ever seen you.” She sucked in a deep breath. “So what I guess I’m trying to say is fuck what everyone else thinks, including your Dean. Don’t let one narrow-minded bully make you give up on that girl.”

I felt a guilty twi
nge at Troian’s mentioning of Dean Merlot. I had confided in my friend about the recent wave of tyranny and my concerns regarding my teaching evaluation. “I haven’t talked to Hunter about that.”

“What? That’s like Relationship 101 stuff, Elle,” Troian scolded me. “You don’t keep the important stuff from your partner.”

“I know, I know. I just don’t want to make a big deal about it, that’s all,” I tried. “And if I tell Hunter, it officially becomes a big deal.”

Troian looked unconvinced by my weak logic. I didn’t blame her – even I knew this had the potential to blow up in my face.

“Bob’s right though – they can dismiss me for not fitting in with the university’s faith traditions. And I don’t fit.”

“Why would they have given you tenure then?
” Troian pragmatically stated. “They knew you were gayer than a unicorn long before they found out about Hunter.”

“This is a new Dean,” I said. “
The old Dean, Dean Krauss, signed off on me. Dean Merlot did not.”

“I bet he has a secret life –
everyone
in the Midwest has a secret life,” she grinned. “Want me to do some digging? I bet I find dirt.”

“He is a
she,
” I corrected my friend, “and no, no digging is necessary.” I could practically see the gears churning in her head. “I mean it, Troi,” I warned. “Stay out of this.”

She grinned, but I didn’t trust her for a second.

I heard the front door unlock. “Elle?” Hunter’s voice wasn’t far behind.

“In the kitchen!” I called back.

She walked to the back of the apartment where she found me, elbow deep in homemade pasta dough. I must have been a sight because she let out a belly laugh.

“What are you doing?” she asked between giggles.

“I’m making dinner.”

“Is that what it’s called?” She slung her bag on the ground and came over to me. I couldn’t do much with my hands and much of my forearms covered in sticky dough. Her arms went around my neck and she pulled me in. Her mouth pressed softly against mine and I moaned a little when I felt her tongue flick against my bottom lip.

“Get a room!” Troian called out, mid-kiss.

Hunter lea
pt back. “Jesus!” It was a good thing she was young and healthy – it was the second time today she’d been startled. She pushed me away. “You could have warned me that Troian was here.”

“In Elle’s defense, your tongue was down her throat before she had the chance,” Troian retorted.

Hunter hid her face behind her hands. “I’m going to take a quick shower and wash off this embarrassment.”

“Bye, Hunter!” Troian chirped. “Nice seeing you!”

Hunter waved a hand as she disappeared down the hallway, mumbling, but I couldn’t make out the words.

“That wasn’t nice,”
I complained to my friend.

“Then don’
t force me to watch your homemade porno,” Troian laughed back. “I know exhibitionism is your thing, but don’t subject me to it.”

Why I ever confided in Troian my personal-brand of kink was still a mystery to me. “As if you and Nik haven’
t done 100 times worse in front of me.”

“Whatever, Bookie,” Troian scoffed. “My girl and I are hot; you’
d be only so lucky to get a free show.”

“As fun and as traumatizing as this conversation has been, I gotta go,”
I said, wiggling dough-covered fingers at my tablet. “I need to finish dinner.” I still had to get the dough the right consistency, roll it out thin, and put the filling of ricotta cheese and spinach inside.

“Check ya later, loser,”
Troian cheerfully signed off.

Hunter reappeared shortly after I said my goodbyes to Troian. She toweled off her hair as she walked out of the bathroom. She looked refreshed and relaxed in her tank top and sleep pants. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat of the shower or else she had yet to recover from the embarrassment that was Troian.

She stopped in the hal
lway. “Is it safe to come in?”

I waved to bid her to come closer.
The dough was done, and I was rolling it out with the wine bottle I’d brought to have with dinner. Hunter’s kitchen supplies were impressive for someone still in college, but she didn’t have a rolling pin. “Troian’s gone now.”

Her steps were still h
esitant despite my assurances. “I promise it’s just us,” I laughed good-naturedly. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you about her. She was keeping me company while I prepped dinner.”

“What’s for dinner?”
she asked. She hung her damp towel on the back of a dinette chair. There wasn’t a formal dining room in her two-bedroom apartment, but the kitchen was big enough for a small two-person table and chairs.

We would have had a lot more space at my house, even with my mom being there, and everything was more updated and upscale than at the apartment, but the food would taste the same and there was something cozy about us
kind of ‘roughing it’ in Hunter’s apartment. I imagined us building a fort out of blankets and couch cushions and streaming movies on her laptop later.

“I’
m attempting homemade ravioli. I’ve never tried making it before though, so I can’t promise anything. It might be a disaster.”

She swooped in close to observe my cooking. I was spooning filling onto what would be the bott
om layer of my stuffed pastas.

“I’
ve got bread from the bakery and wine, too.”

“Wow,” she admired.
“What’s the occasion? Did I miss a milestone?”

“
Troian asked me that, too. I just wanted to make dinner for you.”

“That’s awfully sweet.”
I was rewarded with a quick kiss near my temple.

I wasn’t normally very good at romantic gestures and being thoughtful. But being with Hunter made me want to be a better girlfriend.

A short while later we sat at the kitchen table. Tiny tea lights illuminated the table for two. “You first,” I urged. “And remember, I’m not making any promises.”

Hunter’s fork hovered in the air with a ravioli a
ttached to its end. “Mmmm,” she hummed when her fork slipped past her lips.

“Good?”
I asked, waiting for confirmation that I didn’t need to order pizza.

She nodded enthusiastically.
“
So
good, babe. These ravioli are like perfect little pillows.”

With Hunter’s stamp of approval, I too dug into the food on my plate.
It
was
good; she wasn’t just humoring me. I hadn’t even thought to test it before serving her. I wasn’t an expert in the kitchen, but now I could add homemade pasta to my small repertoire.

Hunter made an
eerily familiar, sexual sound with her second bite.

I arched an eyeb
row. “Should I give you and your pasta some privacy?”

She covered her mouth as she chewed th
e rest of her bite. “Sorry,” she mumbled, coloring a bit.

“Don’t apologize. You’re adorable,”
I approved. “How was the rest of your day?” I asked, stabbing a few ravioli on my fork.

“
It was good. Pretty standard. I basically followed around Marcie on her rounds in the pediatric wing.”

“Which one’s Marcie?
Have you told me about her before?” I reached out to top off our wine glasses. They were actually juice glasses with snowflakes etched on the glass, but they served their purpose.

“
Maybe. She was the nurse we saw in the nursery today.”

“The one who caught us…”
I trailed off, feeling a blush as deep as the color of the wine.

Hunter popped another ravioli into her mouth and grinned at me around the mouthful.

I cleared my throat, still embarrassed by the memory. It struck me strange that being intimate in front of strangers or acquaintances didn’t bother Hunter – she seemed to revel in it. But when it came to being seen by someone she knew, like my mother or even Troian, she became more modest.

At the end of the meal,
Hunter stood and cleared my plate before I could stop her. I grabbed her wrist and ran my thumb across the fine bones. “Why don’t we leave that for tomorrow, Hunt?”

Her smile was lazy, but knowing, and
her eyes slightly lidded. “What would you rather do instead?”

+++++

It was dark in Hunter’s bedroom, but I could tell she was looking at me.

“Tell me your fantasies,” she breathed.

I rolled onto my side.
“My what?”

“Your fantasies,” she repeated.
Her features were obscured with only the moonlight filtering through her bedroom windows. “What kind of sexual fantasies bounce around in that giant brain of yours?”

I didn’t answer her immediately.
I had been able to do certain things, many of them degrading and humiliating to past partners, especially Ruby, because I wasn’t in love with them. I had had no desire to nurture or protect anyone before being with Hunter, and so I had been comfortable playing the role of dominatrix or, when I rarely switched roles, of the reluctant submissive.

“
You under my desk, pleasuring me with your mouth while I try to maintain my composure during a meeting or a phone call,” I said, treading lightly.

The mattress shifted under her weight as she moved closer to me. “
Naked from the waist down?” she continued my scenario, “Legs spread for me?”

“Mmhm,” I confirmed.

“That doesn’t sound very dom-like,” she observed.

“
No, I suppose I’m more into exhibitionism than BDSM,” I admitted to the space above my head.

“
Like when you fucked me in the bathroom stall at Peggy’s.”

Hearing curse words come out Hunter’s
mouth did all kinds of things to my libido. Her apartment tended to run on the cold side, but I was feeling anything but that right now.

“What else?” she pressed.

I hesitated, but only briefly. “Tying you up and cutting off your clothes.”

I could see her eyes widen, even in the dark. “Like with a knife?”

I shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal about it. “Scissors work, too. You’d be amazed at how good cold, metal scissors feel against your skin.”

She regarded me with a serious look. “Why haven’t we done any of that?”

I didn’t have an answer for her. I couldn’t call Hunter unkind names or inflict even mild physical pain. I restrained myself with her, but the sex was still amazing; she made my heart
so
happy. But I wondered how long it would take before my cravings and darkest fantasies pushed beyond my purposeful checkpoints.

I kissed her solidly on the mouth to derail the conversation. One hand went to her hip while the other got tangled in the hair at the base of her neck. Her hands mirrored my own. She squeezed my hipbone with one hand while the other wrapped around my loose curls. Her breath came in bursts against my lips as our bodies pressed together. My hands went to her pert backside and I grabbed onto her, pulling her more solidly against me. She moaned into my mouth, a noise that originated in the back of her throat to hum against my lips.

Her fingers toyed with the bottom hem of my v-neck shirt. I lifted my arms so she could free me of the garment. I made short work of her sleep clothes, first pulling off her tank top and then slipping off her pajama pants until I’d stripped her down to her pink cheekster underwear. I licked my lips and drank in the view. They looked impossibly sexy against her pale skin, the satin finish with black lace on the edges contrasting nicely.

I curled my fingers beneath the waistband and Hunter lifted her backside off the mattress to help, but I had other plans. I pulled my hands out of her underwear.

Her face was flushed just from the brief activity. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m really sorry, Hunt.” I faked a yawn. “I think being a housewife today really took it out of me.”

She looked so horrified and frustrated, I had to bite back a laugh. With the apartment finally to ourselves we didn’t have to worry about anyone overhearing us except maybe the nosey neighbors.

“But…but you promised. At the hospital.”

“I know I did.” I rolled onto my side and propped myself up on my elbow. “But you could always finish the job yourself?” I suggested, unable to resist a smug smile.

Those pale blue eyes widened.
“I don’t think I can do that.”

“No?” I trailed my fingers down
the center of her chest, between her naked breasts, and down to the lace trim of her underwear. “You masturbate, right?” My fingertips slid beneath the elastic band to play just beneath the surface. “How would this be any different?”

Her pale blonde eyelashes fluttered when my fingers dipped a little deeper beneath
her underwear. “But I’ve never had an audience.”

I peppered her neck and up to her temple with soft kisses. “
I can give you some suggestions if you don’t know how to start,” I offered. I made sure my words were warm and wet against her the shell of her ear. I knew how sensitive that spot was on her.

I felt her shudder
against me, letting me know her reluctance was crumbling.

“We’ll go slow,” I assured her, leaving my fingers just beneath the elastic band of her panties to innocently play. “Start with your breasts. Palm them and feel how soft and full they are.”

I hummed approvingly when she followed my instruction with little hesitation. Her hands slowly moved to cup her own breasts.

“Does that feel good?”

She didn’t verbally respond, but her breathing had become more shallow.

“Squeeze a little,” I urged. “I want to see you make your nipples hard for me.”

“Th-they already are,” she stuttered.

“
Harder
.”

She whimpered, a noise just barely audible to my ears. Her eyes were shut as she scraped her fingernails over her nipples. She pulled and tweaked the hardening buds until they stood up stiffly, contrasting with the soft fullness of her full breasts.

“Good girl,” I murmured my approval. I slid my fingers out of her underwear. “Now, touch yourself over your underwear.”

That demon inside me surged as I watched her right hand
slowly move from resting on her right breast to hover just above her underwear.

“What next?” came her shaky question.

My heartbeat quickened in my chest. “Rest two fingers on top of your clit. But don’t move them,” I commanded. “Just feel their weight against you.”

I heard the shaky intake of air as she did what I requested.

“Now, lightly press down.”

Her hand repositioned
as I started to push her beyond her comfort zone. Unbidden by me, she began stroking herself over the material of her underwear.

“Just like that,” I encouraged.
My eyes never left the movement of her hand. I didn’t want to miss a thing.

“Touch your clit through your underwear. Focus on how good it feels when the material rubs against you. Keep teasing yourself,” I pushed. “I know you want it harder, baby, but not yet. I know you want to feel your pussy without anything in the way.”

She made a small noise like a quiet grunt.

“Slide your panties to the side,” I ordered. I wet my lips as I watched. “I want to see you.”

She moved the material covering her sex out of the way so I could better see her. She was wet and dark pink, flushed and ready. I bit back a telling moan.

“You can touch your pussy now,” I allowed. “But don’t touch your clit anymore.”

Her fingers fluttered against the shaved skin and she sighed when her fingers finally made direct contact.

“Now run a single finger up and down your slit,” I continued my instructions. “Get yourself nice and wet.”

A single digit divided her folds and she quietly sighed. She opened her hips and her legs fell apart; her self-consciousness slipped away with each new command.

“Are you wet?” I asked. I began to toy with her nipple, pinching and rolling it between my thumb and forefinger.

“Uh huh,” she whimpered back.

“Do you want more?”

“Yes,” she hissed. She pressed down harder against her opening, just moments away from slipping inside. I grabbed her hand to stop that from happening. “Not yet,” I said, my tone gruff. “I’ll tell you when you can.”

I was never so forward or aggressive in my everyday interactions.
I didn’t even consider myself an extrovert. Only in the classroom, looking over a room full of students, each eagerly writing down everything I said, did I find an equal thrill. It was probably one of the reasons I’d always been resistant to Troian’s urging that I give up teaching to work for her.

“Please, Elle,” Hunter panted. Her hips rose off the bed and she made a frustrated sound.

“Please what? What do you want?”

She looked away, but her fingers continued their ministrations. “I want…I want to cum.” Her wiggling and arching became more noticeable.

“And what do you need in order to cum, love?”

“In-inside,” she stuttered, her eyes meeting mine again.

“So soon?” I taunted.

“Please?” she gasped.

“One finger,” I allowed, making myself look cross at her impatience.

A look of relief passed over her features. Her initial timidity had been banished in favor of desire. She cupped her sex fully in her palm before slowly inserting her middle finger inside.

“Better?”

She whimpered and nodded.

She looked so utterly licentious; her left hand continued to paw her bare breasts while she penetrated herself with her underwear still on. I wanted to remove her hand and replace it with my own to feel her sex swallow me whole, but a larger part of me wanted her to see this through to her completion.

“All the way in and all the way out,” I told her.

She began pulling and pushing her single finger in and out of her. I could hear how wet she was. Her arousal clicked in my ears.

“Can you do three?”

Her single finger stalled as she considered my question. She bit her lower lip and nodded. I sucked in a sharp breath as I watched two more fingers disappear. It wasn’t the easiest of maneuvers, especially because she still wore her underwear.

Her head tilted back and her eyes closed, mouth hanging slightly open.
Her breath came out in short, staccato breaths.

“Keep your eyes open.
Look at me when you make yourself cum.”

Her eyes fluttered open and she stared back at me, now bold and challenging where on
ce she’d been hesitant and shy. “I’m close.”

“Fuck yourself, Hunter.” My nostrils flared, taking in the scent of her arousal. “I want you to cum.”

Her eyes shut on their own accord and her head lifted from the pillow. I could have stopped her for disregarding my command, but I wasn’t so cruel as to interrupt her orgasm. Her mouth fell open and she breathed out sharply with a strangled cry.

“Fuck.” Her blue eyes blinked rapidly. “That was…
intense.
I-I’ve never gotten off like that before.”

I kissed her forehead, now slick with sweat. “You did so good, Hunter. So very, very good.”

+++++

There was a mountain of dirty dishes awaiting me in the morning. I found a bottle of dish soap in the cabinet beneath the sink and I started the hot water. Hunter’s kitchen wasn’t equipped with a dishwasher, so that job fell to me. But believe me – it had been well worth it. A smile, unbidden, reached my lips when I thought about the previous night.

“You’re doing my dishes?”

I turned my head and saw Hunter,
already dressed for work. She had another full day at the hospital. I privately thought they were taking advantage of my girlfriend as it wasn’t even a paid internship, but I kept my opinion to myself. Her hard work would be rewarded and she was getting invaluable experience. “Correction. I’m doing the dishes
I
got dirty yesterday.”

“From making us dinner,”
she continued to protest.

“I’ve got this one, hun,” I assured her.
“It’s a small price to pay after the performance you gave me last night.”

She ducked her
head and made for the pantry. “I still can’t believe I did that,” she mumbled. She seemed to be hiding behind her box of Cheerios.

“Are you okay with last night?” I worried aloud. “I didn’t…it wasn’t too
uncomfortable, was it?”

She grabbed the milk from the fridge and sat down at the kitchen table with her breakfast. “I was embarrassed at first,” she admitted. “I’ve never done that before with anyone. I felt so…
vulnerable.
But then I kind of got into it.” She dunked her spoon up and down in the bowl, drowning individual pieces of cereal. “I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to do it again.”

“Good,” I beamed with relief. She’d pressed me as to why we hadn’t traveled far into the realm of my sexual fantasies, but I didn’t want to pressure or least of all traumatize her. “I wouldn’
t mind if it happened again, either. That was fucking sexy.” I wrinkled my nose at a sauce pan that refused to get clean. “But next time remind me to presoak these dishes first.”